From There and Back
by Darandus548
Summary: Near death experiences change people. Some change for the better, others for the worse. Some come back with extra baggage. Still others return with even less than when they started. Rated for: Strong Language and possible mature themes. Possible pairings to come..
1. Ch 1, Part 1: The Hard Part

**Updated 9/22/15** : I've gone back through and edited some more of the text for errors, more possible corrections to come. I have also taken the time to add a few more sentences in, and then some, to help clear up some details that may have been missed. Finally, I've made some of the sentence transitions a bit easier to follow, along with making it read a little better overall.

 **Note:** The use of '_' AND italics denotes a character's personal thoughts.

Because of the nature of this story there will be spoilers, so please: read with caution.

* * *

From There and Back

 **Chapter 1, Part 1: The Hard Part**

It's a strange feeling coming back from near death.

I don't mean like seeing that light at the end of the tunnel sort of thing, or even claiming to have visited to the other side.

I mean like fading in and out of consciousness from third degree burns extending over sixty five percent of your body, that includes your insides as well.

You wonder whether it will be the pain or the blood loss that finishes you off.

The answer: the blood loss.

Eventually the pain does begin to fade away, along with your consciousness as it's sucked away into the black abyss we commonly refer to as "death".

Things go dark for a while, you wonder if death has finally taken you.

Suddenly, you wake from the River Styx soaked with sweat, and most of all: alive.

Now comes the hard part.

* * *

The harsh lights burned my at my pupils like that of a thousand suns, I tried to shut them, acting on pure reflexes, trying to block it out only to feel a massive migraine surging forth beneath my skull. My vision blurred and I felt my ear drums pop.

I tried to squint past the pain only finding more following it. I managed an effort to suck a breath in, only to find it caught in my throat. I tried again, only causing me to gag on that same breath.

I couldn't breath. Something was wrong with me, something very wrong.

I started to panic, I felt like I was suffocating. Like someone had stuffed cotton balls into my throat. I swore I could feel them scratching at the base of my windpipe like I'd inhaled a hand-full of thorns.

In fact, my whole body felt as though it was being strangled. Like I'd been vacuum packed into a plastic bag and were slowly suffocating to death.

Acting on instinct I grabbed at my neck finding nothing but skin. I searched lower, becoming more frantic, until I found what felt like cloth.

I weakly sat up trying not to succumb to exhaustion.

I looked at my torso, my eyes still bleary and clouded. I could make out something black and ragged across it...

I pulled at it, yet it didn't budge. It was stuck.

I pulled harder and began to feel pain.

Around me I could the murmurs of people, their voices low and subdued.

I ignoring them and yanked even harder at the cloth, clenching my eyes shut from the effort.

Suddenly, there was a loud ripping sound, followed up by a small sense of relief as I no longer felt like I was taking in air through a straw.

This was short lived, however, as I was suddenly tackled from behind onto the ground, my head smashing into the floor along with my attacker on top of me.

My eyes screwed up into the back of my head from the force of the impact, I saw stars blink in out of my vision as darkness beginning to claw at the edges of my sight.

I shakily tried to get myself to my knees, only to be forced down by an onslaught of weight, pinning me against the ground.

Around me I hear could people screaming, some of them distant, others very close. Among'st the screaming, alarms sounded and the loud clambering of footsteps followed with it.

The voices of people grew more frantic as well as their movements, which hazed over as my vision tunneled more and more.

It all felt like a bad dream. Like, at any moment, I'd wake and everything would be ok.

That never happened.

Instead, there was a sudden sharp prick in my shoulder followed by a strange pulling sensation that tugged at my consciousness.

They'd injected me with something. Most likely a sedative of some sort. And powerful one at that, I quickly felt myself go numb, my muscles quickly giving in.

A few lucid thoughts ran through my mind at that point before the abyss finally took me, mostly just fuzzy memories and questions. Many questions.

To describe this situation with a single word: Confusing, would be the most understandable.

And with that I fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

I awoke again, this time I was met with that of a pale skinned man wearing a midnight black tux of all things. His skin was burned to the texture like that of wax, his skin a pale grayish tint in the low light. His lips burned and chapped. His sunken in eyes a steely gray.

Truly this man was an oddity among'st oddities.

"Did you sleep well my dear?" the man spoke softly, his deep voice penetrating it's way to my still throbbing head.

I opened my mouth to say something when I felt a gloved hand over my mouth. I tried to grab it away, but found that I'd been restrained; straps had been tied down over my every limb, even around my waist and head, to what I assumed was some sort of table beneath me. I could only look up at the burned man before me.

"Shh..." the man shushed, putting a finger to lips.

I stared back at him for a moment, my mind briefly going blank.

He took the finger away from his mouth and began to speak. "Tell me... have you ever heard the term: 'Words Can Kill'?"

I stared at him incredulously with a mixture of fear, anger, and that thing I've been experiencing a lot lately: 'confusion'.

' _Who the HELL is this guy?!'_

The man paused a moment, as if to savor his words, as he inhaled sharply though the hole in his head he'd most likely call a 'nose'.

"Pick your next words carefully, saying the wrong thing could mean your true death will be an even slower and more painful one." The man said, the inherent menace in his voice ratcheting a few notches.

My eyes widened at these words, and the outline of a smile appeared on the man's chapped lips.

 _'He was enjoying this wasn't he?'_

"You're probably wondering what it is that I'm talking about don't you?" The man asked, taking his hand off my mouth, as he began to slowly pace back and forth from one edge of the table to the other.

From out of the darkness came another figure, fully outfitted in military gear and helmet to boot not to mention the small firearms that were holstered on his waist.

 _'Looks like we weren't alone...'_

* * *

The burned man turned to the figure, his black facial expression a clear sign of his annoyance.

"What is it?" the burned man asked in a hushed whisper.

The figure leaned closer to the burned man, although I couldn't hear his voice no matter how hard I tried to listen in.

"Burn them then." The burned man replied, before taking the gloves off his hands and handing them to the figure.

With that the figure melded back into the darkness, and it was just me and the man again.

He stood for a moment, as if he were contemplating something, before turning back to me.

"Sorry about that interruption, now where were we?." the man said with a forced smile.

I narrowed my eyes at him, his untrustworthy demeanor easily evident.

The man stopped and studied my expression for a moment, deciphering my response from it. It was then that his smile curved even further upwards into an uncomfortable grin. "You don't trust me don't you?" he said, an unnerving air of gentleness to his voice.

I could feel his words send the hairs on the back of my neck standing straight, all I could do was stare back emotionless, trying to shut his voice out of my head..

A small smirk ran across the pale man's lips. "Maybe it's best you stay that way with what I'm about to tell you next…" he said, producing a medical clipboard from out of sight.

My interest was piqued, and I blinked in response to his words.

"Oh good, you're listening again. At least I won't be talking to myself now." The burned man said with delight, immediately noticing my revived interest.

 _'Dammit. So much for that...'_

"Now how about I tell you what we had to go through to save your life." He said, reading off the clipboard.

 _'Saved? Since when?!'_ I would've nearly blurted out if I wasn't already apparently skirting death while doing so.

Barring these unsaid words, I could only continue to give the man a look of distrust.

"Hmm... it says here that, apparently, when you first woke up, you'd actually managed to tear the portion of your uniform that had fused with the skin on your torso, right off. " He said, pointing to what I assumed was my chest.

Despite every voice in head telling me otherwise, I followed the trail of his finger down toward my chest…

* * *

I was met with a perfectly normal set of breasts, albeit naked, but normal.

I shifted my gaze back to the burned man with a look of confusion, a smug grin now on his face.

"Don't worry, modesty is the least of your worries right now." He said, still wearing that disgusting grin.

I narrowed my eyes at him out of disgust. _'Great, he gets to lord over me AND have front row seats to my naked bondage act...'_ I thought bitterly, a twinge of annoyance running across my face.

Ignoring my less than ecstatic expressions, he began to finger through the medical report till he lingered on a page. "Here, this will explain things a little better." He said, taking a photo off of the clipboard and showing me it.

It looked to be a picture of badly burned person, their hair had been burned off, as well as their skin which looked to be a dead brown color. To top it all off; their chest had been ripped up by something, but something was odd… The exposed muscles and other musculature of their torso looked to be completely healthy and intact, the reddish color of the muscles a clear giveaway of this.

Among'st all the burns and damage, it was the face that looked the least crispy and black, it's features the still mostly recognizable.

Then I noticed it.

The distinct curve of the nose, the lower lip, and the large girlish eyes. There was no doubt.

It was my face.

This was a picture of _me_.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This story is a product of a single night of typing, and idea splurging. As such I am actively looking for feedback and corrections to help in improving the story over all.

As for the structure of the story itself: I plan to cover most the important points of the plot, while possible adding in a few original scenes, of my design, to bridge the gaps and help smooth over some rough patches.

My goal in creating this story is to give a to give more context and background into the character "Quiet" from MGSV:TPP, while also observing her interactions with Venom Snake and possibly gaining a better understanding of their relationship along the way.

 **Additional Thanks:** Thank you to those who've taken the time to like and favorite my story, it's really nice to see people so interested in what I've written so far. An additional thanks goes out to those who've given me some pointers on how handle some of the dialogue in the story. Overall thank you all for the support so far!


	2. Ch 1, Part 2: Flames

**Updated 9/28/15:** Felt the chapter didn't have the weight that I wanted it to so I expanded on some of the scenes and added more internal dialogue for Quiet. Hopefully, it reads better now. More additions to come?

 **Note:** The use of '_' AND italics denotes a character's personal thoughts.

Because of the nature of this story there will be spoilers, so please: read with caution.

* * *

 **Chapter 1, Part 2: "Flames"**

The photo left me feeling confused.

Not just because it showed me half dead, that was already drumming up flashbacks of me apparently ripping my skin off...

No, when I looked at myself in the photo I saw not myself, but rather a completely different person.

I knew that I should've felt some amount of emotion when seeing that photo of me, but I didn't. I just couldn't find the place in me to care.

Worse yet, I couldn't remember what had actually happened to me to put me in such a state in the first place. It all seemed like a blur to me...

Maybe I was losing it, or maybe it was my brain's way of coping with the situation…

Whatever it was, it bothered me.

* * *

I glanced from the photo back to the man, that disturbing smile still present on his face.

"Having trouble processing it?" the burned man asked, as he pulled the picture away and slipped it back into the folds of the medical clipboard.

I stared back at him, finding myself a little stunned.

' _How did he know?'_

His eyes glinted for a moment, as if the predator had finally found it's prey.

"My dear, I'm a generous man, and I can see you obviously are in need of answers so how about I offer you a deal?" he asked in an almost too polite tone.

I regarded him with a look of distrust, his sudden change of heart more than a little unsettling.

He studied my expression with a small amount of annoyance, his expression darkening.

He briefly gestured toward something in the darkness before turning back to me, his expression darkening even further.

From the darkness I saw a small floating boy with dark auburn hair emerge dressed in a straight jacket, a gas mask covering his face.

 _'A kid?'_

The mere sight of the boy sent chills down my spine, his simple presence seeming to exude a powerful force.

 _'Of course he isn't normal, why wouldn't he normal?!'_

I looked from the boy back to the burned man a mixture of confusion and fear quickly concocting in my mind.

"We call him 'The Third Boy'." The man answered, a dead look on his face.

Suddenly, the burned man stretched out his arm, and began to gently caress the sides of my face with the back of his hand. The strangely silk texture of his burned hands making my stomach do an assortment flips.

 _'Stick a finger in my mouth, I dare you.'_ I thought snidely.

"Now, I understand this must be a hard choice for you, anyone in your situation would find it a hard decision as well..." the man said softly, his words of comfort only serving to unnerve me further.

Out of the corner of my vision I saw 'The Third Boy' appear over the man's shoulder, his expression distant as if he were focusing on something else entirely.

"BUT-" The burned man suddenly cut off, grabbing my chin so I found myself eye to eye with him.

"You MUST understand your situation, and mine, for us to have an agreement." He said severely, his voice boomed in my ears.

I winced and closed my eyes, the man's voice beating on my brain like it was a drum.

* * *

When I opened them I found that everything in the room seemed to have burst into flames.

The man, the boy, the floor, everything.

' _This has to be another bad dream, or some kind of illusion...'_

As if to deter my thoughts, I suddenly felt a searing heat being to crawl it's way up my legs.

I watched, bewildered, as the flames quickly snaked up me and covered me like that of a blanket.

My skin began to peel back from the flames, the fire reaching into my bones and burning me from the inside out.

It felt like I was being purged from the inside out, and yet I didn't scream.

I couldn't scream, showing that kind of weakness would only prove that I was vulnerable, and mostly because I was already in the process of pissing myself to really scream...

"How does this pain feel?" The man asked while wearing a big toothy grin, his voice heavily distorted.

I looked up at him wide eyed and scared out of my wits.

 _'This isn't real, none of this could possibly be real...'_

Then his face began to melt, literally.

 _'Oh my God...'_

I watch as his skin slopped off of the bones of his face leaving behind a naked skull, still wearing that big toothy grin. Hell, even his eyes burst.

Each individual piece of him splattering itself onto my face and slid off onto the floor below with a audible sizzle as the flames scorched them on the spot. The smell of his melting skin was like of burning rubber, making me want to gag on the spot.

 _'His face just...'_

The formally burned man, now turned talking skull, gazed down at me, his now unreadable features exuding an overbearing weight.

"My face, my identity, my truth. Everything was taken from me..." the talking skull said to me, it's eyes now replaces with transfixing red glowing orbs.

My mind was blank, all thoughts wiped clean.

"By this fire." The skull said, gesturing to the angry red fire that bore down on us.

I began to feel lucid, my eyes dilating to their fullest.

"You and I are the same, your body has been burned of it's markings that make up all that is you. Your memory has been clouded in smoke from those flames. This ever burning fire is what took my truth, and what nearly took everything, and then some, from you." The skull said, the red orbs in his head reaching a piercing brightness.

Suddenly the skull began to grow in height as did the rest of the room, except for me.

The skull leaned over me, his giant figure like that of a titan, and pointed at me with an enormous bony finger.

"And now the very same fire returns to take the rest of you..." The skull said, his voice like that of a fog horn.

The weight of his words was like that of building being dropped on me.

I felt small, insignificant, worthless. Everything felt very real now, as if anything would stomp on me and crush me like the bug I was.

I began to hyperventilate.

I wanted to run.

I was scared.

I shut my eyes as tight as I could and began to cry.

* * *

Then it just...

Stopped.

It just stopped.

Like it WAS all a bad dream.

But it was real, or at least what I felt was real…

The tears still running down my face, and the waste between my legs were more than enough proof of this.

* * *

Slowly, I opened my eyes.

I found myself in the same room, with the same burned man, and the same creepy kid.

Except the man wasn't a talking skull and I, fortunately, wasn't a crispy slice of bacon.

I looked over at the burned man, my eyes still bloodshot from crying.

The man looked at me, oddly enough, with a look of understanding. While the child stared, fixated, on my face.

"You know my pain now. You have until morning to decide what you will do." He spoke rather humbly.

Then he, along with the child, walked away from the table into the darkness without a sound.

From out of sight I heard a click, and a door opening.

Light briefly filled the room. And I could hear the tapping of feet and individual conversations from, what I assumed was the hallway, outside.

From out of view I heard the man talk, his voice back to its normal deep-self.

"Make sure she doesn't leave this room till morning when I return. And return the child to his holding cell, be sure to bring along an extra squad to guard his cell as well." He said hurriedly, as he began to walk out of the room.

For some reason he stopped short of the doorway, pausing for some reason.

"Oh, and for the love of Christ clean up the mess she made, and get some underwear for her or something. Honestly, when I go to simply talk to someone, the first thing I expect is some sort of clothing." He said nonchalantly, his footsteps becoming fainter and fainter.

There were an assorted grunts of agreement, followed by more shuffling. Some of them entering into the room others still moving through the hallway.

And as quickly as it had been opened, the door closed taking the light with it.

I could hear them milling around the room, getting closer and closer.

I knew what was coming, but I didn't fight it. There would be time for that later...

For now though I needed time to think and, most of all, rest.

Suddenly, there was a sharp poke my neck, followed by a familiar pulling sensation.

 _'Here we go.'_

And so darkness took me again.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait on this next part, some personal items came up and I had push back my working on this chapter. But now it's here!

As always I'm looking for feedback and corrections to help in improving the story overall.

And yes, I came up with most of the material here in a single night of idea splurging. Was pretty fun to write in my opinion, hopefully I didn't get too graphic for you guys.

And finally: Thanks for reading!


	3. Ch 1, Part 3: An Interlude

**Updated 10/26/15:** Added more to some convos and fixed up some errors. Also sorry for the lack of updates I've been absolutely swamped with school at the moment. As for approximate time for the next chapter: I've got no real plans for it's release until I find some free time for myself... Expect it to come out of nowhere.

 **Note:** The use of '_' AND italics denotes a character's personal thoughts.

Because of the nature of this story there will be spoilers, so please: read with caution.

* * *

 **Chapter 1, Part 3: "An Interlude"**

"Oh, and for the love of Christ clean up the mess she made, and get some underwear for her or something. Honestly, when I go to simply talk to someone, the first thing I expect is some sort of clothing." The burned man said to the guard who stood at the door entrance, his pace quick and his steps measured.

As he stepped into the hallway, he found himself being passed by a number of his own men, most of them were bee-lining past him toward _her_ cell.

' _Damn, this is only going to complicate things further…'_ he thought, tightening his grip on the medical clipboard.

He briskly walked down the brightly lit hallway, running down a checklist in his mind's eye.

' _If she refuses, I'll just have to have her killed, and I'll just have to find a new candidate…'_ he thought callously.

For a moment he stopped to examine his own thoughts, finding them cold, even for him.

' _The least I can do for her is give her a choice of what life she wants…'_ He thought, hastily backtracking on himself.

"Anyway, the next is the matter of business is the takeover of the Mfinda Oilfield..." He mumbled to himself, rounding a corner.

"Then-" he began to say, before his words were cut off, as he suddenly found one his men standing stalwartly before him, his right hand plastered to his forehead in the form of a salute.

' _Ugh… what is it now?'_ He briefly thought with a pang of annoyance as he briefly looked the man up and down.

By the looks of the soldier he looked to be middle aged maybe early fifties. The small wrinkles extending from the distinct folds of his face along with his graying short brown hair worked to support this observation. One thing that hadn't seemed to be affected by time was the soldier oddly pale blue eyes, which somehow still seemed to shine despite his age.

 _'Hmm... No one I recognize. Probably a grunt, and most likely a go getter at that..."_ The burned man thought dryly.

"At ease. What is it soldier?" He commanded brusquely, his voice a little hoarse.

The soldier relaxed his posture, unsticking his hand from his now sweaty forehead."Sir, we're having trouble getting the scientist to cooperate with us on the weapon again..."

"Did you try threatening the good doctor with his legs again?" He quickly asked, crossing his arms.

The soldier's eyes began to quickly shift in his head. "We did sir, it's just now..."

"Yes?" He asked adamantly, his patience already waning.

"Well sir… You see…" the soldier continued, the soldiers voice beginning to shake.

"Go on soldier, tell me before I walk away." The burned man asked, a noticeably dangerous edge now in his voice.

The soldier swallowed anxiously, becoming more and more nervous by the second."Sir, he's kind of gone and locked himself in his workshop. And he kind of won't come out..."

The burned man paused for a moment, contemplating the words that were just spoken to him.

"Soldier, how long has the doctor been kooked up in there for?"

"Uhh… For about three hours now?" He said, biting his lip in anticipation of something.

"Hmm… I guess we're going to have to remind the doctor why it is he works for us in the first place..." The burned man thought aloud, putting a thoughtful hand on his chin.

The soldier found his expectations of the commander defied. "Sir, you're not angry?" asked the soldier, feeling an immovable lump in his throat.

But to the soldier's dismay his words were unheard by the burned man, who was too busy deep in thought to listen.

The burned man gave a sudden heavy sigh. "Very well, I'll be there in a few minutes." he said, as he quickly passed up the soldier who still looked quite dumbstruck.

The soldier stood dumbstruck for a moment as the burned man passed him, continuing on in his hurried pace.

"U-uh sir?" The soldier said calling out to burned man in confusion.

"Not now. If you want to talk to me, walk with me." He said dismissively, as he proceeded down the hallway.

* * *

What was only just a few minutes felt like an hour as he strode down what seemed like an endless array of hallways. All appearing to be nearly the same, if not for the assorted signs which eventually led him to stand before a door specifically labeled with one word stretching across its frame.

It read: "Emmerich" in a large bold font.

"Always the possessive one weren't you Emmerich…" The burned man mumbled to himself, as he pushed the door inward and entered into the room.

* * *

-A few hours of slow torture later-

"Now Dr. Emmerich: I just want you to answer one question for me." The burned man asked, his words laced with poison.

The gangly, wavy haired man quivered in the corner, his face covered in bruises.

He leaned over the pathetic lump of a man, his eyes gleaming in the shadow of the light.

"Emmerich; why oh why did you lock yourself in your workshop?" He asked, putting a tentative hand on the man's shoulder

The quivering man's body began to shake even more violently as stream of yellow liquid began to leak from his pant's crotch followed by a small string of sobs.

He stared at the liquid leaking from the man's pants with a strange look of indulgence before turning on the spot.

"You should have no trouble getting questions out the man now, do with him what you like." The burned man said to a pair of guard, who stood at the doorway, as he quickly left the still sobbing doctor behind in his wake.

' _He didn't have to piss himself; always with the dramatics Emmerich…'_ He thought to himself with a small humorous shrug as he quickly found himself, yet again, strolling back down the corridor a little skip in now in his step.

' _Ah but I do love beating on that nerd sometimes, helps to release some of that built up stress'_ He thought, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

From behind him the burned man could hear the sound of boots plodding along behind him.

In that instant his expression fell, and his posture slumped.

' _Don't tell me he actually…'_ He thought to himself, as he came to a sudden stop.

"Who the-" He said angrily, whirling around.

He was met with the the soldier who'd stopped him in the corridor from before, by the looks of him he looked a little pale.

"Uh sir, is there something the matter?" the soldier asked genuinely.

He stared at the soldier for a few moments, apparently confused by the question, before regaining his composure.

"Other than you following me? Don't you have your duties you have to return to?" The burned man asked accusingly, his previously satisfied mood quickly disappearing.

The soldier visibly swallowed, his stomach beginning to bother him. "Well uh... Sir it's just that you looked a little concerned after you came out of that room where we'd put the captain…"

"You mean the test subject?" The burned man asked, his brows furrowing.

"Uh yeah… Is she going to be ok?" the soldier asked eagerly, his expression pleading for an answer.

The burned man didn't respond, as he carefully examined the man's searching for to see if there was truth to words.

Then it dawned on him who this man was. "Your from _her_ squad aren't you?" the burned man asked curiously.

"Oh yeah! Name is Jonathan; at your service!" Jonathan said, striking a hardened salute.

"At ease." The burned man said, pulling a small pack of cigarettes from his front breast pocket.

The private lowered his hand from the brow of his forehead, coming to fall straight down to his side.

"Tell me Johnny- can I call you that?" He asked, fiddling with lighter he had in his pants pocket.

Jonathan gave a shrug of indifference.

"Very well Johnny: What is it that you wanted to know about your 'captain'?" He asked, flicking the top of the box of cigarettes open with his waxy thumb.

Jonathan eyed the cigarette box nervously.

"Well I was really worried about her sir. I mean she's one of the only reasons why I even got here in the first place... " The soldier said, hanging his head dejectedly.

"Is that so..." The burned man said with a little bit of intrigue, pulling out a cigarette and sticking it in his mouth.

Jonathan swallowed anxiously, his mouth beginning to feel dry.

"Uh yeah… Anyway, Is she alright?" Jonathan asked, trying to work past his commander's abrasive personality.

The burned man paused for a moment, choosing his next words carefully, as he brought the lighter up to the cigarette in his mouth and lit it, all the while quietly contemplating a careful response.

"Sir?" Jonathan asked, when he didn't answer.

The burned man inhaled deeply, feeling the nicotine saturated clouds fill his lungs. For a moment he held it in his lungs until he began to feel them burn from the chemicals. To him it felt good, as if, somehow, in that moment he was reminded of what it felt like to be alive again.

Then, just as it had came, it left as he slowly exhaled, letting the cloud of smoke escape from his mouth hitting Jonathan square in his unsuspecting face.

Jonathan instantly began coughed and choke, all the while trying to keep his professional look, with little success of course.

The burned man glanced from Jonathan to his box of cigarettes with a thoughtful look.

' _I really have to give these up…'_ he thought, as he let the cigarette drop from his hand to the ground, before quickly stamping it out beneath one of his suede shoes.

He briefly glanced to the still sputtering Jonathan who'd now gone down on all fours, one of his hands around his throat as spit and snot began to leak from his mouth and nose.

"I guess you're not a smoker then Johnny?" The burned man asked, a small bit of humor in his voice.

"N-no *cough* sir... Not *hack* really..." Jonathan managed hoarsely, still trying to catch his breath.

Stuffing the box of cigarettes into his breast pocket, he knelt down next to the still sputtering Jonathan and patted the man's back till his coughing fit finally subsided.

"Better?" asked the burned man.

Jonathan, still on all fours, nodded his head as he wiped his saliva covered mouth with the back of his hand.

For a moment there was moment of silence between the two men, the hallways echoed with the sounds of voices and footsteps, as to their point of origin: It was anyone's guess really.

"Sir, you still haven't answered my question." Jonathan suddenly said breathily, still trying to get a hold on his breathing.

For a few seconds he didn't answer, before sighing heavily.

' _He's persistent, I'll give him that. Maybe I should put him on guard duty for her cell…'_ The burned man thought with a small growl.

"She's going to be ok, but we don't know if we can say the same for her loyalties..." The burned man said, with some amount of regret.

Jonathan quickly looked up nonplussed.

"But sir, she nearly died!" Jonathan said urgently, his voice raspy.

"And I'm giving her a decision!" The burned man replied, equally as urgent.

There was a pause between the two, as either side silently absorbed what had just been said.

"What do you mean a decision?" Jonathan asked calmly, cocking an eyebrow

The burned man put a hand on his hip and briefly looked at the ground.

 _'Dammit, might as well bring him into the fold on the whole thing... Probably kill him later, or at least leave him stranded in some desert_ somewhere." The burned man thought, as he decided on what to say next.

* * *

Moments passed without a word between the two men. The tension was palpable.

"Sir, what happened in that room between you and her?" Johnathan asked, lowering his voice down to a rumble.

The burned man briefly made eye contact the newly dubbed: 'Truth Seeker' Jonathan, who continuing to be sardonically amused by his tenacity. For a moment he swore he saw that cliched fire of determination burning in his eyes.

 _'_ _Yep, definitely going to leave him in the_ _desert.'_ He thought, discreetly clenching his hand into a fist tightly gripped fist.

The burned man gave a heavy sigh, and slouched. _'Might as well get this over with...'_

"When I found that her loyalties were questionable; I gave her a choice." The burned man replied, in a hushed voice.

Johnathan cocked his head to the side, confused. "What do you mean a choice?" Johnathan replied.

The burned man quickly glanced from left to right, to check if anyone was listening. "I mean that I'm offering her a chance to clear herself of any doubts we may have about her loyalties." The burned man responded.

"And if she doesn't accept? What then?" Jonathan questioned.

"Then I kill her. Simple as that." The burned man stated flatly.

Jonathan's eyes widened. "S-sir?!" He sputtered.

"Do you have any other suggestions in mind Johnny?" The burned man asked.

Jonathan straightened himself out, trying to "N-no it's not that, its just that..."

"Yes?"

Jonathan swallowed anxiously. "It just seems unnecessary, I mean what reason would she have to betray us?"

The burned man crossed his arms. "Listen, I realize you may still harbor some hope for your captain, but I will tell you now she is not the same person you knew."

Jonathan was taken aback. "W-what do you mean?" Jonathan stammered.

The burned man paused a moment.

"Do you want to be there when we hear her decision?" The burned man offered suddenly.

"S-sir? I don't- I mean..." Jonathan sputtered nervously.

The burned man sighed. " Out with it already..." He said impatiently, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

Jonathan quickly straightened, giving himself a quick smack across his face to psych himself up.

"But sir, isn't she under strict quarantine measures?" Jonathan finally questioned, unsure of the implication involved in doing so.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't give you access." The burned man said, pointing in Jonathan's general direction.

Jonathan paused a moment, narrowing his eyes at his commander.

"And if I refuse?" Jonathan asked, crossing his arms.

Another pause.

"Then I will have you killed." The burned man stated rather plainly.

Jonathan gave a visible shudder and his posture went to jelly, the color draining from his face.

"So do you accept?" The burned man asked, knowing he'd already won.

Jonathan gave a weak nod.

"Good to hear, I want you at cell block 20 by 0600 hours. Do you hear me?" The burned man said with a faux smile, patting the strangely stiff man on the shoulder while stuffing the medical clipboard into his unsuspecting hands.

"Be sure to return that to the medical bay when your done with it. Ok?" The burned man added sweetly, before turning on the tip of his toes and walking off.

Meanwhile Jonathan had fallen over like sack doll. Falling into a lucid heap.

 _'I love doing that.'_ the burned man thought, with a smile.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** For those of you wondering: No, I actually didn't come up with this in one whole night. Disappointed?

As usual, I'm open to feedback and corrections to possibly improve the story overall.

Keep watch in the future for possible updates that may either: add more content or make corrections in the story.

Finally: Thanks for reading!


	4. Ch 1, Part 4: Ow

**Note:** The use of '_' AND italics denotes a character's personal thoughts.

Because of the nature of this story there will be spoilers, so please: Read with caution

* * *

 **Chapter One, Part 4: "Ow"**

My hands were around his throat, my fingers digging into the thin skin of his neck. I was pressing my thumbs into his windpipe, as a weak gurgling came from deep within his throat as he tried, in vain, to free himself.

I gritted my teeth and squeezed his neck even further, feeling his carotid arteries beginning to cry for release.

His eyes began to fly wildly around in their sockets, his face beginning to turn a sickening purple color.

I felt his windpipe begin to bend to my thumbs' will.

His entire face clenched and strained as he made one more final push to fight back against his rapidly fading consciousness.

I slammed his head against the floor, his eyes rolling up in the back of his head upon impact.

And then he suddenly went stiff.

I felt his windpipe finally snap, his body briefly convulse, his pained expression suddenly muted, before finally going still.

I was still, my hands still tightly clenched around his throat. I could feel my heart beating like a drum in the back of my throat, the adrenaline still coursing through me, my individual breaths sharp and distinct.

The silence, which had always been present, now overcame me, almost like a bucket of cold ice water being dumped on me.

My mind slowed, thoughts began to form in it instincts slowly receded.

I was still breathing sharply, my face drenched in sweat, my heart still beating like a drum.

I stared wide-eyed into the man's vacant expression, the realization of what I had just done dawning on me.

"I- I killed him…" I thought in shock, my hands shakily releasing their grip from his bruised neck.

I fell back off of him, feeling numb all the while.

"Wh-what happened?" I thought simply, briefly looking down at my own hands with a sudden feeling of simply incredible confusion.

Suddenly the man who'd I thought dead, killed by my own hands, opened his eyes, his irises set ablaze with fire.

Before I could react his arm shot forward, and his hand closing around my throat like that of a vice.

I tried to yell, maybe call for help or something, but his fingers had already closed around my windpipe. All I could manage was a small pathetic whimper.

I struggled against his grasp as he pulled me close to his face; the fire in his irises burning with an intense light, as if they could see right through me.

I felt a terrifying, yet familiar sensation of what I would describe as: "Being the smallest thing alive in a world of VERY big things."

Everything was beginning to go dark, spots appeared in my vision, and any thoughts I had began to be drained from my mind.

All the while he carefully examined my face, a low growl forming in his throat.

Without thinking, I mustered enough air to eek out a sentence.

"Who are you?" I tried to ask, through my waning consciousness, to the now revived man, as his grip became tighter.

He tilted his head for a moment, as if he were contemplating the question, before he abruptly snapped my neck in one motion.

* * *

I bolted upward in a panic, my every sense dilated to eleven.

Looking around blearily, I tried to spring to my feet, only for them to fall under me.

The subsequent flop was an unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome, stop as I was quickly brought to my senses on impact.

' _Wha-?'_ I thought, quickly grabbing at my legs. Only I couldn't feel them, they were numb.

I tried rubbing the skin both of my legs, trying to put feeling back in them, but to no avail.

' _The hell?'_

I righted myself so I could get a better look at myself as I began to look my legs up and down in hopes of finding the source of my problem.

Thankfully, the solution quickly presented itself in the form a two distinct pockmarks, most likely from syringes, on either of my legs and quite fresh at that.

This alone told me two things; One: not much time had passed since I was put under, and two: I wasn't going anywhere soon much less make an escape attempt…

' _Great, I've got time to kill, and no legs to pass it by with.'_ I thought, a short sigh.

' _So what now?'_ I thought peering around the room I was in, which was comparable the size of your average run-of-the-mill jail cell.

Well for one: it was an obnoxiously white color.

But on another it was also padded; evident by how my hand sunk into floor when I applied pressure to it.

Out of the corner of my eye I spied an oddly black shape amongst all the white. Craning my neck I saw that the black shape actually looked to be a set of undergarments.

With a small glance at my persistent nakedness I pulled myself toward it and grabbed at the shape. To my surprise, I found that I now held, a rather striking, jet black thong.

 _'Better than nothing...'_ I thought, slipping on the suggestive article of clothing. It's texture and material, felt soft to the touch yet incredibly durable as I pulled it with a small snap.

Picking up the other piece of clothing revealed it to be a bra (or maybe a bikini?) of the same make and material.

 _'_ _I just know there's a person somewhere_ _getting_ _a real kick out this_ _...'_ I grumbled internally with an additional roll of the eyes, as I slipped the straps over my shoulders and clipped the connectors together in the back.

I sat back and observed my handy work.

' _Alright, better to have some of it hanging out than all of it…'_ I thought dryly, while adjusting the cups, which, to my surprise, held my chest quite comfortably.

' _Someone obviously knows their clothing around here- along with that of mentally torturing people. How quaint.'_ I thought with a sharp smirk.

Scanning the room for any other garments, I may have missed, I spied a small blinking red light attached to a small metal box in one of the corners of the ceiling. The lens, which was attached to it's front, focused itself on me the moment I looked in its direction.

' _A security camera? Ah, so they've also got eyes on me at all times as well…'_

Among all these things, I'd also managed to spot the door of all things. Except, it was so much a door as a large metal slab with a small rectangular slot at its center, for viewing mostly likely.

' _Well that's just plain unsettling.'_ I thought, smartly, my stomach beginning to tighten and ball up out of an ever growing nervousness.

* * *

With a groan I laid back down and put the backs of my hands over my face, the tightness in my stomach, and now my chest, still not receding. All the while the glowing fluorescent lights above me buzzed incessantly, only spurring further my feeling of isolation and hopelessness.

A few minutes of silence passed and my mind beginning to wander to other things: people, places, events, etc.

' _Just what the hell happened, and that dream…'_ I thought to myself, beginning to reflect on what had just happened within roughly the last 24 hours.

For what seemed to an unmeasurable amount of time my mind asked many questions, some answered with yet more questions, and others with no answers at all. Most of them though were about my past, yet some still lingered on what the burned man had said to me.

'You know my pain now. You have until morning to decide what you will do.'

The statement bothered on many levels, not just because it's meaning had so many implications, but also because it meant that I was somehow like the burned man...

Never the less, he'd offered me a choice: Join him and live, or refuse him and die. Simple right?

In addition to all of this: I could have opportunity to regain my memories of who I was- er am. Though while I wasn't about ready to die, neither was I just going to go along willingly with his every order. His little session had already put me in a bad mood, not to mention the whole soiling myself thing as well...

So what was I going to do then?

My brain began searching for solutions.

Try to break out?

No, not yet at least, the camera would tip them off the moment I tried something, and that metal door looks to be as thick as what you'd find in a bomb shelter, so no breaking it down. To add to all of this, there was no telling when my legs would actually be useful again…

Maybe I could bargain with him?

But what did I have to bargain with? Nothing, that's what. That is if you hadn't already considered my rack to be on that list.

Without thinking I gave my chest a tentative poke and watched leeringly as it jiggled slightly.

' _I guess, in the end, all I really got is my chest…'_ I thought with a defeated smile.

* * *

I continued to rack off a myriad of ways I try and escape, except that all of them ended up with me either dead or recaptured. I really tried my best to stay optimistic despite myself.

Unfortunately, with every idea I racked off the more the sense of hopelessness brewed within me.

Finally, after what seemed to hours, it brewed over and I suddenly cracked.

* * *

' _Gah! I'm so screwed right now… This whole thing is so messed up!'_ I thought, feeling sick to my stomach.

I could feel my face scrunch up, yet I didn't feel any tears fall. I ran a finger under my eye, finding nothing but the dried skin of my hand.

This caused me to fall apart.

' _Dammit, now I can't even cry...'_ I thought, beginning get choked up and quiver with emotion.

It was in that that moment that I lost my composure, and completely broke down.

' _This is just pathetic, now I'm just getting all worked up over this…'_

' _Just what the HELL did I do to deserve this?!'_ I lashed out and smacked the floor with a balled up fist out of anger.

The blow did something I didn't expect though, or rather three things.

One: while I did smack the padded ground, albeit A LOT harder than I thought I could, the flesh from the tips of my fingers to my wrist disappeared. Not exploded, or tore off, disappeared. I could see all the blood vessels, bones, muscles, and well... you get the idea.

Suffice to say this gave me a quite a shock.

Two: I actually caused the entire padded cushion to deflate and subsequently cause my hand to strike through the soft material onto solid concrete.

Well now I was just scared, mainly of myself.

Three: Because of said concrete and my hand striking it, I'd actually gone and broken it. My bones splintering and cracking; I think I even saw my pinky split in two.

Add this all to the fact that I could SEE my hand physically breaking and splintering along with all those other wonderful details; I promptly passed out with a single resounding word on my mind.

' _Ow.'_

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Ok, so I definitely didn't come up with this one in a single night. Rather I had it sitting there for like seven months. I won't lie, I got major writer's block on this one, oh and a metric ton of school work that got dumped on me these few last months as well as a few real life personal issues. So there is my terrible excuse out of the way.

So you're probably asking right now: "Is it going to take another half a year to make another part?"

The answer to this question is: "Hopefully not." I've got the ground work for this upcoming part set, the problem is writing it so isn't disappointing or lack luster.

(Keep this on the down low) Considering its also supposed to be a juicy one~ (Keep this on the down low)

Oh and on that: Please give me feed back on what you've read so far! I really like getting reviews from you guys! In fact a review from a guest is what got me to- and I quote: "Get off my butt and actually publish this!"

In short: Give me them reviews dudes and dudettes! It's a real treat it when I get them! Just be sure to make it constructive if you're giving suggestions and fixes.

Oh and check back for updates to others parts, this is still currently in the works so things are still being developed and changed to make more sense.

So if I've seemed patronizing here, I'm sorry, I wrote this whole author's note on the fly. Overall though thank you all for taking the time to read this patchwork story I'm writing!


	5. Ch 1, Part 5: Like a Migraine

**Updated 11/14/16:** Ok, so it's been a bit. I was being a bum and I've not been working on this. I decided to go back and look at this chapter and fix it up so it's not a cluster of words on a page and actually somewhat readable.

Oh and I changed some dialogue so it makes more sense.

 **Note:** The use of '_' AND italics denotes a characters personal thoughts.

* * *

 **Chapter 1, Part 5: "Like a Migraine"**

I felt something kick me in the side, and I curled up in pain. "Get up!" a man's voice said.

' _Huh…?'_ I slowly opened my heavy eyes, my body feeling oddly achy and hot all over.

"I said get up!" he said again, his tone rising.

Ignoring him: I briefly looked around blearily, finding that I was still in the padded room from before. Save for the now quite agitated man standing before me.

"Get up! Now!" He nearly screamed, making my head rattle heavily.

I groaned, shakily getting to my now thankfully functioning feet. _'I must've been out for a while, maybe a few hours…'_.

Oddly enough, I noticed my hand, specifically the one I distinctly remember breaking in every sense of the word. Now looked to be completely fine.

' _Ok, that's weird-'_

"Back to the wall!" The man in front of me suddenly interrupted, jabbing me in the gut with something blunt.

I stumbled backwards against the nearest wall, weakly clutching my stomach.

He quickly followed me to the wall the firearm pointed at my head the whole time. "Don't move."

' _Not sure I could do even that, even if I wanted to, ass…'_ Feeling shots of cold etch themselves into my brain.

I stood there for a moment, feeling sick to my stomach and more than a little off balance, much like a bad hangover.

Except in this case I wasn't actually hungover and more just straight up feeling sick.

For a moment the padded room was quiet. That is before a bevy of heavily armed, armored, men entered the room through a newly revealed door on the opposite wall.

The man, noticing this new development, coolly stepped to the right outside the edges of my sight, still pointing his gun still trained on me.

' _Oh... so that's where the exit was…'_ I thought dumbly, somehow disregarding everything else I'd seen.

As they all filed into the room they had their guns trained on me.

This continued for a minute or two till half the room was filled to the brim with a firing line, which just so happened to all to have their guns pointed on me.

For a moment they were still, not a one made a sound. That was until a voice perked up from the rear of the group.

"Uh, sir?" An unsure voice asked to someone out of view.

"Not now Jonathan." A familiar deep voice replied.

To my right, I heard the man holster his gun and a small sigh follow it.

"Finally…" The man whispered to himself.

The familiar voice made my ears perk up, my attention focused squarely on the voice, almost instantly recognizing it. I felt a fresh injection of energy hit me: my eyes opened to their fullest, I felt a sudden urge to do unspeakably violent things sprung to the forefront of my thoughts.

I clenched my jaw in response to this newly concocted cocktail of hormones. Suddenly I felt the barrel of a gun forced against the side of my head.

For a moment I froze, and put my hands up in the air, straining to at least glance at who had the gun to my head.

This, of course, was a mistake.

Without warning, he smacked me in the side of the head with the butt of his firearm. I staggered forwards, stars began popping in and out of my vision. I tried to turn around to meet who'd hit me when I suddenly found myself careening face-first toward the ground.

The landing was fortunately soft, due to the padding of which the cell had been lined with. I tried to stand but found I had no energy to do it with.

' _Welp, it is official: EVERYTHING just straight up sucks.'_ I thought fleetingly, as I gave a nearly silent huff.

"What have you done?!" A deep voice yelled above me.

I looked up, and suddenly questioned if I was actually dreaming. Turns out I wasn't.

There was The Burned Man, of all people, who appeared to be arguing with one of his men, his motions quite wild and very angry.

' _Huh... maybe I'm STILL dreaming...'_ I thought snidely, seeing The Burned Man acting in my stead.

"Sir: you saw what happened did before! You know that it is more powerful than we initially thought!" the man was pointing at me, his finger stiff in its accusation.

"-And from that; You ought to know that _she_ has the potential for great things!" The Burned Man fired back, his hands crumpling into fists.

"You're referring to that _thing_ as a person?! You're insane!" the man yelled incredulously, pointing an accusing finger at me.

The Burned Man suddenly swept in close to the man, and within the same motion, grabbed the man's hand.

" _She's_ not a _thing_ , _she_ is an _experiment_ , and you'd do well to remember that." The Burned Man replied calmly.

The man seemed to hesitate for a moment, he seemed to be confused; probably by how his hand was now being restrained, and by what The Burned Man had just said.

A small list of answers popped into my mind, along with a much longer stream of questions.

' _So I'm an experiment? What? Is that why I can't speak?'_ I was briefly able to ask myself, before I was cut off by more happenings.

The man suddenly spoke: his words were slow it seemed he had chosen them carefully. "Sir: I have been with you since the beginning, you know I trust you! But you must listen to me!" The man's voice was trembling somewhat.

The Burned Man seemed to consider his words, a grimace crossed his lips, and then he slowly loosened his grip on the other's hand ever so slightly.

As if to take the situation into his own hands, he suddenly twisted his hand out of The Burned Man's grip and quickly shoved him with his elbow.

Quickly he went for something at his hip. The Burned Man couldn't react as he was still getting to his feet.

The man brandished a gun, the same gun, most likely, that'd he'd used to smack me in the back of the head.

By the looks of it: it was a Smith & Wesson Model 686; it looked to be polished to a near mirror sheen, and some of it's parts looked to be custom made with their own engravings on them.

Obviously, this weapon was the man's own custom firearm.

' _Maybe I should start call him Revolver Dude.'_ I thought quietly to myself, with a small internal nod.

He then kicked the The Burned Man on to his back, pinned him, and then shoved the revolver's barrel in his face.

"Anyone who even points their gun at me gets this madman killed!" He announced, pulling the revolver's hammer back to and pressed it firmly into The Burned Man's head probably to push the point home.

Some of the men who'd initially motioned for their own weapons, now seemed to pause, their fingers still firmly placed on their triggers.

The man kept glancing from the firing line of men back to The Burned Man, the look in his eyes reminded me of a wild animal.

He was looking for a way out.

After what seemed like an eternity The Burned Man spoke. "Really now, is this necessary?" He spoke calmly and almost confidently.

Revolver Dude eyed him knowingly, shaking with adrenaline. "Oh this is necessary, very much so."

The Burned Man smirked. "I don't think so. Personally, I think you're just taking your anger out on me."

Revolver Dude tightly squeezed the grip of his revolver, his whole body seeming to tighten up. "Sir- No... Skull Face: I want you to shut your mouth. RIGHT. NOW." His voice beginning to shake and falter with audible anger.

Another answer, another name.

' _Skull Face? Is that his name?!'_ I questioned, quickly dedicating the new name to memory.

On reflection: the name kind of naturally fit him when you'd consider his appearance, and general attitude.

Skull Face gave a small chuckle, putting flashing a toothy smile, his waxy lips nearly splitting. "Oh I know all about your troubles with you and your wife's kid. I know how you moan about seeing them, how you've been having your doubts about me as recently, you should know the rest."

Revolver Dude's bared his teeth angrily, his eyes were wide open; in fact, his whole face space volumes about how angry and scared he was at that moment.

"I- I don't know how you heard all that… b-but I can tell you what I'm going to do-"

Suddenly, Skull Face interrupted Revolver Dude. "What?! Not die?! Escape?! Kill me?! HAH!" his voice quickly rising.

Revolver Dude lunged forward and shoved his gun's barrel into the other's open mouth.

"SHUT UP! I AM going to live, I AM going to escape, and I AM going to KILL YOU!" He screamed wildly.

For a moment there it seemed like he may actually shoot, yet he didn't.

Instead, he did something I didn't expect- and frankly didn't want.

Revolver Dude's crazed eyes shifted and settled onto me, then a rye smile crossed his lips. "Y'know instead of killing you, how about I kill your little 'experiment' over there."

My eyes widened. _'Oh… Don't get me involved in this too… Please?'_ I silently pleaded.

Skull Face's well uh… 'face' hardened for a moment as he glanced toward me, our eyes meeting for only a moment, and then returned quickly back to Revolver Guy with a searching look.

"Well? Not going to stop me? I mean, she's my only way out of this situation right?!" He asked,

Skull Face's gaze returned to the man on top of him and seemed to only smile in response, if you could call it a smile in the first place.

Revolver Dude narrowed his eyes at Skull Face. "Fine, have it your way, I'll take her hostage then."

' _Oh- COME ON!'_

Carefully, he stepped off Skull Face's body still pointing the revolver at him, and crept back toward me.

I felt my stomach do a few flips, as he approached. _'Well... DAMMIT. Gotta get up… Do something!'_

Despite my best efforts though, all I could manage was to wiggle my toes, and groan weakly.

Before I knew it there was a hand grasping the back of my hair and my limp body was yanked upwards not entirely unlike how a cave-man would.

"Maybe I'll kill her on the way out just for funsies!" he added playfully, as I felt a familiar piece of metal being pressed to the back of my head again.

' _So this is how I go out huh?'_ I wondered to myself, my mind raced from to and fro from what little memories I had.

If it was any solace for myself at the time: most of them were just me being tortured or in pain.

I grimaced, shut my eyes. _'Y'know, it's times like these that I just want to disappear…'_.

As if to insult me further I felt something smack me in the face.

' _Ugh… Can we quit smacking me and get this over with already?'_ I thought hopelessly.

And again, as if answering my rhetorical question, there was a sharp gunshot.

There was loud ringing in my ears as I found myself deafened from the gunshot. I waited for the shock to wear off and the pain or realization of my own death to set in.

Yet that never happened.

' _Did he miss?'_ I thought, slowly opening my eyes.

I found my face pressed against some cushions.

Suddenly, I realized it. _'I'm alive!?'_

To my side I heard some groaning and I turned my head towards it. To my surprise it was Revolver Dude, of all people, he looked to be grasping at his stomach painfully.

I felt someone standing over me and I summoned what strength I had left to look up.

It was Skull Face, brandishing his own gun, smoke still rose from the muzzle.

He swiftly handed it off to the nearest of his men who offered to take it and calmly walked over and knelt over Revolver Dude's immobile body, he looked somewhat sad surprisingly enough.

"I don't like wasting bullets on people that don't deserve them, but you forced my hand, and for that I commend you." Skull Face said give half-hearted chuckle.

I could hear Revolver Dude mumbling weakly. "H-how did that thing… It's not possible… I had her...".

Skull face stood up, and made a motion and some men began approached Revolver Dude.

"Y'know... you actually were one of my best men, you were almost always the top of your class during the preliminaries. You should've been the best. All considering."

He paused for a moment before continuing.

"But you had one flaw. And a big one. Y'know what that was?"

Revolver Dude, glared lucidly at Skull Face.

"You had no respect, or trust for that matter, for authority. Even when it came to me for that matter."

Again, he paused to let the words sink in as his men began to prepare to put Revolver dude into a stretcher.

"-But I never expected you'd go so far in defying me as to attempt to kill our little experiment here. Thankfully, she's shown herself to be useful already." He said motioning to me as Revolver Dude, was slowly lifted onto the stretcher.

He took one of his men aside, and spoke quickly "Make sure he gets medical attention immediately, I think I missed most of his organs, but I may actually be wrong about that. Y'know how it is- old eyes and all...".

As Revolver Dude was carried off I swore I could still hear him mumbling to himself.

Despite all that had happened I sorta felt bad for the guy, if only because I disliked Skull Face more. At least he didn't make me piss myself!

I suddenly felt a pair of gloved hands on me and I was being rolled onto my side.

' _Oh great. what now?...'_ I thought, closing my eyes and wincing from the pain.

Thankfully this time the gloved hands were quite gentle in handling me. "Captain!... Can you hear me?...".

It was a man's voice… his voice was somewhat soothing after all the yelling and screaming, but that wasn't what had my gotten attention.

' _Captain? Me?'_ I thought, opening my heavy eyelids.

The man was leaning over me, his face was quite close, thankfully this man's features were soft and friendly, if not a little worn by the passage of time.

As I lingered on his face I felt a sense of Deja Vu

' _Who are you…'_

Is wanted to say, as my curiosity quickly spiked despite my fading consciousness.

Little known fact: When you're fading from lack of energy everything starts to go fuzzy, and melty.

Out of view I heard Skull Face speak. "...Jonathan that's enough... Just a little knock to the head is all...".

The middle aged man, now dubbed Jonathan, face peered from me to Skull Face worriedly.

"...But sir what about..." He said, his blue eyes now turned messy gooey blobs searching me up and down frantically.

Skull Face's voice was fading quickly. "...It'll be... Jonathan…" he said, it quickly being lost to the fuzziness.

Jonathan still looked genuinely concerned, despite looking like a blob to me now.

"Wha-? B-but?!" Johnathan continued to sputter.

Skull Face suddenly interrupted the concerned Jonathan one last time. "I said... would be FINE Jonathan...".

Finally, I could take no more, I felt my eyelids slowly close on their own and a loud whine fill my ears.

And with that I knew only blackness.


End file.
